


The Year After Next

by laughtales



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SylvixGiftExchange2020, a dash of coffee shop and college au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughtales/pseuds/laughtales
Summary: All Felix wanted was to go home andnotstudy for his impending biochemistry final. Sylvain, it turned out, had other plans.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	The Year After Next

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cavalierious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cavalierious/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Ann <3 Your prompts were so cute, I had a blast working on this! I hope you enjoy~

Felix had been on his third cup of whatever Sylvain kept bringing him by the time he finally understood what Annette was trying to explain to him. Damn her for convincing him to take biochemistry with her. He didn’t even need the class; he was an arts major for fucks sake.

The coffee shop was busier than usual; it always was this time of year. Sylvain had only stopped by once, during his break, to slide next to Felix and explain stuff with casual ease. _Not fair_ , Annette had sulked, sticking out her tongue at him behind his back once his break was over. It had only taken five of Sylvain’s fifteen-minute break to figure out where they were going wrong. He’d spent the other ten dodging Annette’s projectiles and laughing while clinging to Felix’s side.

Despite being the cause of his stress this semester, and thus, had a moral obligation to help him, Annette had had the gall to pack up her things what felt like forever ago to go meet Mercedes.

Felix never wanted to see a hexagon-adjacent shape _again_ after this goddamn final.

Sometime between Krebs cycle and wanting to stab his notes with a coffee stirrer, Sylvain appeared and closed his laptop without a word.

“What are you doing?” Felix glared, ready to turn his flimsy weapon on Sylvain. His face was distorting into geometric shapes, though that might have just been the pattern of his scarf.

Sylvain just smiled and made a vague gesture to himself and that was when Felix noticed the distinct lack of an apron and Sylvain’s jacket in his arms.

“Oh,” Felix blinked. “Done?”

“Yup.”

“Good,” Felix said, throwing his things into his bag haphazardly and pulling on his coat.

Sylvain held the door open for him as they left the coffee shop. It was cold outside and giant flakes of snow fell from the darkening sky. Felix took a step, ready to make a beeline for home, when Sylvain caught him by the arm and led them in the opposite direction.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Sylvain said before Felix could protest. “There’s a market a couple blocks over.”

On one hand, his impending final that he definitely needed to spend every waking minute studying for. On the other, Sylvain and his droopy puppy eyes and his bright fluffy hair and his stupid charming smile.

Felix hated biochem and liked Sylvain. Toss up for which one he felt more strongly in the moment. He wanted to say the former, but knew it was always going to be the latter.

Felix found himself acquiescing easily.

He let Sylvain lead them around, their elbows bumping occasionally when Sylvain got excited over the lights and decorations and overall festivity – a snowman at the entrance, the tree in the square, a moving display of Santa’s workshop, elves and all, busy loading up his sleigh.

Although, for someone who wanted to see the market, Sylvain spent a lot of time looking at Felix, turning to him every few steps to point out something so flashy it was impossible to miss, as though he was afraid Felix might wander off if he looked away too long.

Or maybe he kept looking at Felix for the same reason he kept looking at Sylvain. The warm glow from the lights and the scenic backdrop made Sylvain look absurdly good.

A draft blew through, cold air slipping down his collar. Felix shivered, feeling the chill travel from the tips of his ears all the way down his spine. One second, he was burrowing into his coat to prevent his ears from falling off and the next, he was being engulfed in warmth and the faint scent of Sylvain’s cologne.

Felix wasn’t sure whether Sylvain was trying to help or suffocate him. He wrapped his scarf around him more times than necessary until Felix was buried up to the bridge of his nose in it. “I can’t breathe in here,” he said flatly, making no motion to rectify this problem on his own.

“That won’t do,” Sylvain laughed and unwound the scarf a little, freeing his nose. “There we go,” he smiled, the kind that made Felix’s heart do that terrible skipping a beat thing.

Felix stared at the exposed hollow of Sylvain’s throat and scrunched his face. Before Sylvain could open his mouth to say something reassuring or suggestive, or both at once because Sylvain was dumb with words like that, Felix zipped up his coat the rest of the way, almost catching Sylvain’s chin on the way.

“You’ll get sick,” Felix said, looking away when Sylvain thanked him. “I’m not taking care of you if you do.” That was a lie and not a good one, not that there was a previous occasion to call upon for evidence. Perhaps it was the lifelong trend of insomnia whenever Sylvain was bedridden for some reason or another. He eventually, thankfully, grew out of throwing a tantrum until the adults let him stay with Sylvain, but that restless worry persisted into adulthood.

Sylvain smiled at him, warm and knowing. “I know.”

“Good.” Felix nodded, shrinking into the scarf to hide the flush that was rapidly spreading across his cheeks as they walked.

Despite his earlier reluctance, Felix found he was enjoying himself. It was an appreciated break from the end of semester havoc, not to mention spending quality time with Sylvain. They’d both been so busy the last couple weeks.

It was nice.

But when the streetlights flickered on and it was Sylvain’s fluffy scarf versus the wind in a fight for Felix’s ears, one the scarf was unfortunately losing, Felix felt a rising desire to go home.

“Sylvain.” Felix stopped walking, waiting for Sylvain to do the same. Sylvain turned to look at him, a curious tilt to his head. “Let’s go home,” he mumbled.

Sylvain’s brows creased in confusion. “Isn’t that where we’re going?” he asked, looking around as though he might’ve taken a wrong turn. Felix followed his gaze and saw a familiar snowman. The same one they’d passed when they’d arrived.

Felix ducked his head, staring at the ground as he sped past Sylvain, ignoring the heat rising to the tips of his frozen ears.

Sylvain chuckled, skipping after him, catching up in a matter of strides. “Oh, but I need to make a quick stop.”

“Again?”

“It’s on the way. I’ll be quick, promise.”

Felix sighed and followed, muttering that he’d leave and go home first if Sylvain took too long.

“We’re going to someone’s house?” Felix asked incredulously, looking up at the building Sylvain walked up to.

“Only to pick something up,” Sylvain replied. He rang the doorbell and a chirpy _coming!_ floated through the door.

Felix frowned. The door opened with a blast of warm air and an overly sweet smell.

“Sylvain!” Hilda said, elated, slapping his arm affectionately. “And Felix,” she added with a giggle.

“Hilda,” Felix replied, hoping Sylvain would keep his word and make this quick.

“Still a bundle of joy, I see.” Hilda quipped, mostly to Sylvain as they followed her into the living room. “Give me a sec,” she called, already disappearing into a room, pink hair trailing behind her.

Felix turned to Sylvain, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

“You’ll see.”

Hilda returned not a minute later with something small and round in her hand. “Tada!” she sang, holding it out to them. Felix blinked, confused. He looked to Sylvain, a question already on his tongue, before pausing at the sight of him.

His honey-colored eyes were sparkling; his mouth was stretched in a wide smile as he turned the object over in his hands. “It’s perfect,” Sylvain said breathlessly.

“Of course it is; I made it.”

“You made it?” Felix interrupted. He stared at Hilda, trying to reconcile her working with her hands when he’d only ever seen her passing off work to those around her.

Hilda looked at Sylvain. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Wanted it to be a surprise.” Sylvain turned to face him. “Hilda makes stuff – jewelry, accessories, stuff like that. I commissioned her for a Christmas ornament.”

“A couple’s ornament,” Hilda corrected. “Do you know how hard it was to carve words in there?”

Sylvain laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can imagine. Almost lost a finger carving our pumpkin this year. Thanks again, Hil.”

Sylvain turned to him and held the ornament up. He kept moving though, unable to contain his excitement, preventing Felix from getting a good look. He was pretty sure it was a snow globe but that’s all he got.

Sylvain had an ornament made for them. A couple’s ornament, as Hilda pointedly emphasized. Felix was too busy processing that information to process what it looked like.

“I didn’t get you anything,” he blurted out. _Yet_ , he wanted to add. Technically, Sylvain never said it was for him specifically. It was something for them. Still, Felix couldn’t shake the feeling that really, Sylvain had gotten it for him.

“I don’t need anything,” Sylvain replied immediately, easy. _Except you_ , left unsaid although Felix always heard it _._ That was what Sylvain had said for his birthday when Felix had asked him what he wanted.

The thing was, Sylvain looked, then and now, wholly and truly like he meant it. He wasn’t just saying it to make Felix feel better while masking disappointment. Sylvain looked at him every day like he had the whole world instead of just Felix. Like everything Sylvain found beautiful in the world was somehow made even more so by the mere existence of Felix in its space.

Next time, Felix swore to himself, he’d find a way to pluck the stars from the sky that Sylvain loved so much. He could do it; he had a whole year to figure out how.

Scratch that. There were only six months until Sylvain’s birthday.

…Fuck. Make that two. Their anniversary was two months away.

“Like it?” Hilda’s voice cut through his thoughts, a grin on her face.

“It’s not bad,” he replied, short and clipped.

“Wow. ‘It’s not bad’? Isn’t that basically Felix for ‘I love it’?”

“Sure is,” Sylvain replied with a laugh. Traitor. Felix would’ve elbowed him but Sylvain was still holding the ornament and Felix was busy trying to will away the heat rising to his face.

“Here, let me warp it for you,” Hilda said, taking the ornament back and producing tissue paper, ribbon, a gift bag out of thin air. She wrapped it up, tied it off with a bow, and put it into the bag. For some reason, Hilda held it out to him instead of Sylvain.

Felix stared at it, then Sylvain, then Hilda, then back to Sylvain, confusion deepening with each glance. 

“My arm’s getting tired Felix. If you leave me hanging any longer, I’m going to drop it.” It was a bluff. It had to be a bluff. Maybe.

Felix very reluctantly and very gently, snatched the bag from her. Sylvain took the opportunity to swipe Felix’s bag and slung it over his shoulder. Felix was ready to fight him for it, right there in the middle of Hilda’s living room but Sylvain stepped to the side, just of out of his reach and made for the door. “Merry early Christmas Hil’,” Sylvain said cheerily. “Say hi to Marianne for me.”

“Sure thing sunshine,” Hilda replied, waving. “Merry Christmas to you two too!”

Sylvain laughed, pulling Felix after him before he could turn around and make a rude gesture at her.

Hilda’s place was only a few blocks from their place. It was a short walk. Snow crunched under their boots; the sidewalk was slightly slippery. He’d deny it with all the words he knew how but Felix carried the bag like it was the most precious in the world. He made sure the handles would hold before letting them bear the weight inside so he could take Sylvain’s hand in his as they walked. He even let Sylvain swing their hands a little like they did when they were kids. Though maybe that wasn’t Sylvain and him instead. Every time their hands reached a peak and swung back down, Sylvain made a happy sound that made Felix want to hear again and again.

In the time it took them to walk the four and a half blocks back home, Felix decided he wasn’t going to study for the rest of the night. Sylvain dropped his bag off on a kitchen chair while Felix was busy untangling himself from his massive scarf.

It was not going well, made worse by the fact that he could only use one hand. Felix growled in frustration, picking through the endless mass of fabric until he saw Sylvain watching his struggle with a dumb smile on his face.

Felix glared at him, though from the short laugh Sylvain gave before he came over to help, it probably looked more like a pout. It was infuriating how often those wires got crossed these days.

Once he was free, Felix didn’t run. He didn’t. Speed walked maybe. Took larger strides than was natural to get to their tiny Christmas tree, perhaps. He tore open the tissue paper, left it in shreds on the floor. Sylvain sat down next to him just as he pulled the ornament free.

He’d only gotten a glimpse of it at Hilda’s. He took his first good look and his eyes widened.

It was beautiful. _First Christmas_ was etched in a circle around the base. The exterior was adorned with holly and pine and a perfect balance of gemstones to look classy instead of gaudy. For how intricate the entire thing was, the inside was surprisingly simple – a few trees, a bed of shimmering glitter for snow, and two figurines huddled together in the center.

“The cat’s you,” Sylvain said, pointing to the small black figurine. Felix held back an immediate protest regarding the relative size of the figures.

“Does that make you the fat tabby?”

Sylvain laughed. “Pretty sure Hil’ said it was a fox.”

“I prefer cats.”

“The fluffy tabby is me.”

Felix scoffed, fond. “Foxes are okay too.”

He tugged a few generic bobbles off their tree and made to hang the snow globe. It took a couple of tries to make sure it wouldn’t slip off a branch. Then he let go and the tree, all two feet of it, toppled over from the weight and both he and Sylvain dove to catch it.

“Okay! Not on the tree,” Sylvain huffed, standing the tree up as Felix darted off to the safety of their couch with the snow globe. “We need a bigger one.”

“We don’t have the space for a bigger tree.”

“It can stay on the coffee table until we do then,” Sylvain smiled. He took the snow globe from Felix’s hands, brushing his fingers, then tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Shower? Your hands are still cold.”

Felix opened and closed his hands a couple times and nodded.

When he came out of the shower, warm and content, the smell of apple and cinnamon was in the air. Sylvain was on the couch hugging Felix’s favourite cushion, his eyes closed. A steaming untouched mug of apple cider was on the coffee table.

Sylvain cracked an eye open when he heard Felix approach. “My turn?” 

“Who else?”

Sylvain laughed and squeezed the cushion once more before depositing it on the couch. “Don’t miss me too much,” he said with a wink that made Felix roll his eyes.

“Just go.”

Felix flopped onto the couch, picking up the mug and taking a sip. He never used to like apple cider. Store-bought was too sweet, the stuff in cafés too fancy. It took a lot of trial and error and persistence on Sylvain’s part to convince Felix it was a drink he’d like if made right.

Felix picked up the snow globe and turned it over to watch the snow fall around the figures inside. He repeated the action once the snow had settled for who knows how long. Long after he’d finished his drink up until Sylvain came out of the shower.

Sylvain sat next to him and dropped his head onto his shoulder. Felix jolted at the cold, wet touch against his neck.

“What are you doing?” he asked incredulously, twisting away from Sylvain and his dripping hair.

“Trying to cuddle with my boyfriend,” Sylvain replied, nuzzling against Felix’s hand where it was keeping him at bay. “He doesn’t seem to want me though.”

Once upon a time, those words would’ve hurt. Would’ve torn open stitches that hadn’t had the chance to heal yet. The irony of how much Felix had wanted him while Sylvain had thought otherwise left its mark and for a time, Felix thought they’d never fade. Now, the only feelings that rose in his chest were fondness and exasperation.

Sylvain was looking at him with his biggest puppy eyes. Felix has never been a dog person but there was no winning against him when he looked like that. He sighed and held out his hand, jerking his head towards the towel around Sylvain’s neck as he rearranged himself. “After you’re not soaking wet,” he said by ways of compromise. He patted the space between his knees and he swore Sylvain’s ears perked up and his metaphorical tail wagged as he handed the towel over and settled into the space Felix left him.

The towel was damp. More than damp. It was one hair toweling away from wet. Felix sighed again and found a slightly dryer area and dropped it over Sylvain’s head, pressing down to soak up the water before ruffling it through. While Felix worked, Sylvain picked up the ornament, giving it a little shake before holding it by the strap. It swayed in the air, snow falling around the figures inside.

“Let’s get another one next year too,” Sylvain said once the snow had settled.

“Okay,” Felix agreed with a hum, settling the towel aside to run his fingers through the strands. Even though he couldn’t see, he knew that Sylvain was smiling. Happiness radiated off him, infectious, and Felix felt a small smile of his own creep onto his face. He paused, rubbing a strand of red between his fingers. “And the year after that,” he added quietly.

Felix felt the embarrassment immediately.

Sylvain never promised him forever. Forever was such a daunting thing. He wanted it, more than anything else he wanted right now. But the weight of forever _…_ Felix didn’t know if he was ready to bear it. Worried more about placing it on Sylvain’s shoulders. He knew Sylvain’s record. For a long time, it was enough that the day always ended with the promise of tomorrow.

Felix didn’t know when that stopped being enough. He wanted Sylvain next week, next year. Next decade and beyond.

Felix wanted Sylvain in their next life too.

He wanted Sylvain forever. Now that he had him, he never wanted to let him go.

It was weird. It wasn’t like Sylvain ever went anywhere over the years, always lingering in Felix’s space, a constant stream of attention and friendship and support that got him through some of the hardest times of his life.

He was there but not _his._ There was a time Felix really believed Sylvain would never be his.

Sylvain belonged to his parents’ first, He was theirs, their golden child. All those awards and trophies locked away in the display case at home? That was all they saw in their son – a list of honors and awards and achievements. They never saw the tears and pain and hurt Sylvain carried around. He wore a smile for them so they could pretend to be the perfect family in front of others. Every smile fractured something in Sylvain. The words, _I’m fine, nothing’s wrong, don’t worry_ , haunted Felix growing up. They made him shed all the tears Sylvain refused to cry, damping his best friend’s shirt all the same. 

And then, one day, Sylvain decided he didn’t want to be his parents’ anymore; chose to not belong to anyone, including himself. Felix couldn’t remember all the girls he’d seen Sylvain with. All fake smiles and flowery words, the nauseating perfumes that lingered on his clothes whenever Sylvain would worm his way into Felix’s space despite the walls he’d put up. Sylvain flitted from flower to flower, gravitating to anyone, everyone, that looked his way, hurting himself and everyone around him in an attempt to numb the burdens he lugged around.

Then there was that college party. The one Felix had reluctantly agreed to attend because Sylvain had asked with that look Felix couldn’t say no to. He’d taken two shots just to prepare himself for a horrible night of watching Sylvain flirt with anything that moved. Took two more when he got to the party and watched a girl throw her arm around his neck and not at all inconspicuously put a hand on his thigh. He’d been about to throw back his sixth shot of the night when Dimitri had come over to say he’d had enough and everything went up like a Molotov cocktail.

Felix didn’t remember most of that night. He remembered smashing a glass and yelling and storming out into the dead of winter without his coat. Remembered getting lost. Remembered being miserable and regretting everything about that night because he was lost and drunk and freezing and definitely going to die. All of that paled in comparison to the feeling in his chest when he’d seen Sylvain, wide-eyed and shocked with lipstick smeared across his lips in those moments before he stormed out though.

He remembered waking up in a bed the next morning with a roaring hangover and parched throat. He’d grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand without hesitation and downed it in one go before noticing Sylvain hunched over on his bed. The lipstick was gone. Sylvain’s hand was holding his own, and despite his own clean clothes, Sylvain was still in the outfit as last night.

The room smelled of alcohol and puke. Felix’s face twisted into a grimace and pushed Sylvain off the bed.

Jolted awake, Sylvain yelped and flailed and bounced back with Felix’s name on his lips and worry furrowing his brows. There was something in his eyes Felix couldn’t identify.

 _Why are you in my room?_ _Shouldn’t you be with that girl from with last night?_

Sylvain’s eyes crinkled with confusion and hurt. _What are you talking about, Fe?_ he started to say before realization overtook his expression. _Oh- you don’t-_ _you don’t remember?_

All too suddenly, Sylvain’s body language turned stilted, awkward, hesitant.

Felix waded through his cloudy memories _. No._

Was it relief or hurt that flashed across Sylvain’s face in that moment and why did his chest ache no matter which he thought it was?

Sylvain tried to run, turning away quickly and scrambling to get his legs under him. Felix grabbed his sleeve before he could. _What happened?_ _(_ What did I do? What did I say? Why are you running from me?) _What happened, Sylvain?_

_Um, a lot. You probably don’t want to know._

_Tell me anyway._

_I guess the worst part would be when you threw a shot glass at Dima and said you loved him._

Felix narrowed his eyes. Sylvain wouldn’t meet them. _You’re lying_.

There was no way he’d done that. Thrown a shot glass at Dimitri maybe. He even vaguely remembered that part. But confessing to feelings he didn’t have? No way. But Sylvain had flinched at the accusation and Felix had learned Sylvain’s tells a long time ago. A half-truth then.

Suddenly, Felix couldn’t bring himself to look at Sylvain. If any sort of confession had been made, there was only one person it could have been about.

_Did I say it to you?_

Sylvain’s reaction was immediate. _No! Not in front of everyone. You screamed about hating me and my guts and how everything hurt before storming out._

_Not in front of everyone?_

Sylvain laughed, nervous and cracked around the edges. _Well yeah, I mean, I went after you. You were drunk and didn’t have your coat and your sense of direction is questionable on a good day and that’s when you’re sober. I didn’t want you to die because I wanted to go to a party with you._

Sylvain smiled, the kind that Felix always thought looked sad no matter how real it was and kept going. 

_I found you in the opposite direction of our place, shivering on a park bench. Pretty sure that snowball you threw at me had ice in it._ _I deserved it though for being so caught up in my own shit not to notice. Anyway, long story short, I convinced you to go home. It was kind of like herding sheep. Real cute. Would’ve been cuter if you weren’t angry at me and about to drop any second._ Felix threw a pillow at him and regretted it immediately. _Threw up halfway home. It sobered you up a little though. Finally let me help you walk although it honestly would’ve been less effort if I had just carried you._ Sylvain scratched his cheek and looked anywhere that wasn’t at Felix. _And then you started talking. Rambling, really. Not sure if you were talking to me or yourself to be honest. Both, I guess? And uh, yeah, that’s when you said it._

Mortified, that was what Felix was. He was never going to drink again. _That’s when I said I lo-_

Sylvain flinched. Felix stopped.

_You don’t have to force yourself to say it again. It was the alcohol talking, I know. I get it. Really, it’s okay. Besides, it was so muffled, I’m not even sure that’s what you said. Might’ve just been wishful thinking._

Mortification felt mildly better than anger because the anger and frustration he felt made his head split more. _Why don’t you believe it?_ Sylvain looked at him with such disbelief, it made his hangover worse, if that were possible. _I love you_. _I have for ten fucking years. If you don’t feel the same, just say it._ Felix pressed the heel of palms into his eyes, desperately trying to quell the burning. _I can’t stand the way things are anymore._

Felix felt Sylvain shift, then hands were prying his palms from his face.

As far as kisses went, it was awful. Felix really didn’t want to think about what either of them tasted like that morning. Thankfully, or regrettably, it didn’t last long, a short touch like static before Sylvain pulled away, face flushed and eyes dazed. He looked at Felix in that moment like he was the only thing in the world and the words he said thundered in Felix’s roaring ears, bouncing around his head until it made him want to puke again and Sylvain conjured a pail out of nowhere.

That was ten months ago. In ten months, Felix went from wanting one day to wanting tomorrow to wanting forever because right now, Sylvain was his and Felix wanted everything – Sylvain in all his stupid perfect ways and all the ugly imperfect ones too.

Felix wanted Sylvain’s doting, thoughtful affections as much as he wanted to spend nights holding him, due dates be damned, whenever Sylvain got into that spiral of self-hatred he used to drown with sex and alcohol.

He wanted Sylvain’s ridiculously embarrassing PDA the same way he wanted to sit outside his door all night if needed, for Sylvain to come out a hot mess and hug Felix from behind and press his face into the back of his neck and murmur _I love you_ over and over until they both fell asleep on the floor.

Felix wanted perfect apple cider and handmade couple’s ornaments every Christmas for the rest of his life and god did that make him want to ruffle Sylvain’s hair with a wet towel and hope he hadn’t heard it.

Except that Sylvain turned to look at him, eyes wide with joy. “Really?” he asked, breathy and tentative and so so hopeful. “What about the year after that?”

Felix looked at him and what a sight he was – eyes sparkling, lips stretched into a lopsided smile, hair vaguely damp and messy and somehow still soft and fluffy.

He leaned over, brushing his lips against Sylvain’s, trying to ignore the giddy joy creeping up his chest when Sylvain let out a happy little giggle. His arms wrapped around Sylvain’s neck and he buried his face in the damp collar of his shirt. “We can get a sappy ornament every year.”

His own family had dumb Christmas traditions like over-competitive gingerbread house decorating and pretending that Santa was still a thing because Dimitri still believed and Glenn refused to let Felix pop his bubble. Sylvain’s had stuffy Christmas dinners with pretentious speeches and food that looked better than it tasted.

They’d probably have to put up with both at some point. Felix tried not to think about adding Sylvain to the mix of their ridiculous Fraldarius traditions. Knowing him though, he’d probably enjoy them. _Homey,_ he’d say and Felix would roll his eyes and then his sleeves, ready to crush everyone at whatever stupid thing they had decided on doing.

This? This was something for them. An ornament every year. That was all it was for now. Just a handmade trinket made by their friend for a tree they didn’t even have yet. It made Felix warm and fuzzy inside, making traditions like this. It was nice, sappy, but nice. Eventually, Sylvain would probably want to do stockings. And Christmas sweaters. And stupid things like putting mistletoe up everywhere even though Sylvain could kiss him anytime he wanted.

“I’m looking forward to next Christmas already. And the Christmas after that,” Sylvain said.

“Me too,” Felix replied, letting Sylvain bring their lips together again. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays~


End file.
